


ain't that how it supposed to be? (though it isn't me.)

by catgenderclover



Series: lesbianinnit [1]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Exiled TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Fluff and Angst, Gen, Gender Dysphoria, Gender Envy, Gender Identity, Its implied, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Name Changes, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Raccooninnit, Trans Female Character, Trans TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), YEAHHH ITS THE TAG, c!dream is an asshole. as usual, no beta we die like ghostbur
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:08:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28156599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catgenderclover/pseuds/catgenderclover
Summary: if ladybugs are girlshow do they make kids together?what's it like in a female world?i bet it's just so much better.OR lesbianinnit. stans come get yall juice
Relationships: Dave | Technoblade & Toby Smith | Tubbo & Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit & Phil Watson, Dave | Technoblade & TommyInnit & Wilbur Soot & Phil Watson, Niki | Nihachu & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Tommyinnit & Toby Smith | Tubbo
Series: lesbianinnit [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2062770
Comments: 34
Kudos: 955
Collections: Cute MCYT





	ain't that how it supposed to be? (though it isn't me.)

ever since tommy was little, certain things just felt off. usually, what he would chalk it up to was his raising. to be fair, not many people were adopted by a man with wings, and not everybody has two brothers, each who were unique in their own way.

so, for the most part, that’s what tommy would sometimes pass off the odd feeling in his gut as normal adopted kid things(tm).

even if it didn’t explain the wrench in his gut when he looked in the mirror, the quiet trembling of hands when his dad called him son, the bile rising in his throat whenever techno or wilbur called him their little brother.

brother. son. boy. 

the terms hung around him, like a cone of shame, but surely everyone else feels like this too. he just had to learn how to hide it better!

and hiding it was what he did, alright. to be honest, he’d learn to repress the feelings completely until they were just a distant twinge in the back of his mind.

sometimes they’d come back whenever he saw niki, wearing her skirts and dresses, with her high voice, and soft in everything she did. when he saw eret, wearing a dress, not giving a fuck about what other people would think of them. of course, these feelings usually got pushed back, but he couldn’t help but feel…jealous? which didn’t make sense. 

he was a big strong man, he had to be, obviously, but he still felt the familiar pang of jealous when ever he saw niki. at first, he thought, maybe he liked her? but that didn’t feel right. niki was always a big sister to him.

and then, like a train, it hit him.

he didn’t like niki, he wanted to look like her. oh fuck, this opens a whole new can of worms that he (she?) doesn’t even want to get into right now.

and, as he thinks it, he doesn’t get the chance to. he’s thrust into war after war, fight after fight, and he barely gets one minute to just sit down and think on…anything, really.

and yet, the more he (she, a little voice chimes in the back of her head.) thinks about it, the more every jab hurts. every man, dude, he, him, bro. they all were like slowly cutting an already aging rope.

while in his…no, no, her. her exile, (the thought of calling herself ‘she’ makes her entire day.) she does get a lot of time to think about it. almost too much time, regretfully. having to force everything down for 16 years, and then having possibly the rest of your life to think about it, with no one to talk about it? while already being in not the best mental state? yeah, that’s no good.

the only person who she let know about this was ranboo. he was trustworthy, and also, besides dream, the only person who regularly came to visit. besides, according to him, endermans didn’t have a concept of gender.

dream pushes, he shoves. every time dream calls her tommy, (she still needed to think of a new name, but she didn’t like tommy, that’s for sure.) there’s an uncomfortable twist in her gut. she hates it, so so much. she’s not sure which hurts worse, him blowing up her newfound home, or every time he calls her a dude. 

and during her week spent under techno’s base, (she wonders when he’ll find it.) she thinks. a lot. about whom she is, who she wants to be. while mining, it comes to her.

clementine. 

that's what she wants her new name to be. 

with a giddy smile, clementine goes back to the prized dnret, lying down on the bed. sure, she has pretty much no one to tell, but that doesn’t stop her from happy. she thinks, if niki would here, she’d be the first person that clem would tell. maybe niki would even let her borrow a skirt.

the only person who knows is ranboo, so she private messages him, letting him know of her name change, and he supports her. he had also made sure to not out clem to anyone, using her birth name and pronouns whenever talking about her was needed.

however, her peace is interrupted when techno finds her underneath his house. 

“what in gods fucking name are you doing here.”

saying the only thing that comes to her mind, she squeaks out.

“get out of my room! i live here.” 

in hindsight, that was a probably stupid thing to say, but she doesn’t fuss too much as technoblade hauls her upstairs.

“what the fuck. are you a raccoon or something, tommy? just, living under my house, taking all my shit?”

she can’t help the visible recoil at her name, (her deadname, her brain supplies. she had googled that term herself.) and techno looks confused for a minute, but still argues with her.

eventually, they come to an agreement, they will have an alliance for technoblade getting his stuff back, and taking down the terrible state that l’manberg is in, and clem getting her discs back.

the two of them do a lot of preparation, and one day, ranboo shows up to visit. techno, obviously is a bit weary, as ranboo had attended his execution, but also did try and stop them, so that counts for something, right?

ranboo is talking to techno and phil when clem walks in, and he waves. “yo, clem! hows it bee–” he pauses, and so does clementine, both of their faces passing through unreadable expressions. techno looks incredibly confused. “who?”

ranboo tries to squeak out an answer, and clem just turns on her heel, dashing down the stairs to her dnret. 

“aw, fuck, fuck, fuck.” she groans, dragging a hand over her face. maybe they would just forget? hopefully. if not, she’s sure she’s just going to dig a hole and lie in there out of embarrassment. 

the day passes, and clementine spends most of the time in her room, waiting until she thinks it’s been enough time for phil and techno to forget. 

she drudges up the stairs, scrounging through the fridge for something to eat, when philza’s voice almost makes her jump into the air. 

“jesus fucking christ! you coulda said you were behind me or something,” she groans with a roll of her eyes, holding an apple in her free hand as she turns to face her dad.

he snorts, laughing. “no, you just have shit hearing, toms.” clem sticks her tongue out, crossing her arms. “i do not! false accusation.”

philza pats her shoulder, grinning. “whatever helps you sleep at night, son.”

at that moment, something snaps. her clutch on the apple becomes white knuckled as the term plays over and over in her head. phil tilts his head, looking concerned. “what’s wrong, tommy?” 

“don’t call me that!” she shrieks, and phil stumbles back, confused. “woah, woah, calm down. what’s going on?” 

clementine falls to her knees, hugging her knees close to her chest as philza gently holds her. “what’s wrong?” he asks again, barely whispering.

“i don’t wanna be tommy, dad.”

phil blinks, connecting the dots for a moment. oh. oh. shit, did this make him a bad dad to his three sons–no, kids? he wasn’t sure, now.

“well…what do you want to be instead?” he asks, gently, as if too much noise would cause her to break all over again.

“i’m a girl, and my pronouns are she/her, and i wanna be called clementine, and–” it all comes rushing out, years of suppression pouring out as she holds onto her father.

philza nods, holding onto his daughter. “of course. i’m sorry you felt like–like you had to hide that. how long have you known…?”

“since the end of my exile.” that was at least 4 weeks away now, so around a month. but the feelings had always been there, she just never thought to share them.

“okay…okay. it’s alright, it’s alright. you’re my daughter, and nothing will change that. okay?” clem sniffles, but nods into his cape. 

and slowly but surely, they worked their way out. first was ghostbur and techno, who simply agreed with a nod. next was their tentative allies– people like ranboo, (who, apparently, was the first person to know, to phil’s surprise) niki, eret, and badboyhalo. people who aren't directly associated with l’manberg, knowing that the entire nation was hung on a tight thread.

(clementine cries when niki holds her, telling her how happy she is to have another girl ally, and lets her borrow a skirt.)

the more…confusing ones were her enemies. a lot of them either wanted her dead, thought she was dead, or didn’t care. so, with an invisibility potion, and some paper. she leaves a note on tubbo’s desk.

‘dear tubbo, my best friend, my other half,

hey. is this awkward? probably. im not dead, hurah! anyways. that’s not what this letter is about. i know you don’t want me back in l’manberg, and that's fine. but just so you know, im changing my name and pronouns.

clementine, she/her. just so you know. 

and…i hope you can come visit sometime soon. i miss you. a lot.

yours truly, clementine.`

**Author's Note:**

> comments are my life and soul thamk u


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